


Revelations

by arcturus7



Series: Merthur Week 2020 Fills [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur/Gwen are in a lowkey lavender marriage, F/M, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Minor Injuries, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), and they all share one braincell, arthur knows things, but he's a himbo nevertheless, day3 fill, he isn't a complete himbo, merthurweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcturus7/pseuds/arcturus7
Summary: DAY 3 of #merthurweek2020!Prompt: "You're hurt. Please let me heal you" + Hurt/ComfortTRIGGER WARNING: mentions of abuse (only suspected, no one's being abused here). also, infidelity (not merthur)Arthur knows things, and understands things. That's until Merlin came along, and now Arthur doesn't know everything and understands nothing.orArthur knows that over the years something is weighing Merlin down, but doesn't know what. Chaos and magic reveals. Infidelity. I'm sorry.
Relationships: Guinevere/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merthur Week 2020 Fills [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051385
Comments: 15
Kudos: 117
Collections: Merthur Week 2020





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of suspected abuse. (No real abuse though). Infidelity.
> 
> And so here's my fill of this year's #merthurweek2020. I do not know what I am doing. I just know that I wanted to participate so _here_.
> 
> Disclaimer: BBC Merlin does not belong to me. This is just a work of fiction. I do not promote infidelity.
> 
> Arthur/Gwen are lowkey in a lavender marriage, but don't know what it means.

Arthur notices things. He has to, as King and Knight. He has to always keep an eye out for potential traitors, potential enemies, potential allies, and potential warriors. He needs to be updated on the in’s and out’s of every citizen’s life, every Knight’s progress, and every councilor's thoughts. He needs to keep watching, observing, understanding, and acting accordingly.

It all began during the days he was a Prince. As a child, his father would tell him how exactly one must behave in court. He'd drill it in that he's expected to be attentive and perceptive of everyone’s needs. How there are great expectations from him as Prince.

As a form of practice, he’d always try to be hyper-aware of those around him. It started after Morgana arrived. She’s the first one Arthur learned to keep tabs on. He’d always notice how she never preferred to be alone, how she’s fond of knives and flowers, how she’s never liked the taste of strawberries. He’s noticed the older they got, the heavier the bags under her eyes look, how she’s taken to having her maid sleep in the antechamber, how she’s always looking for excuses to go to the Physician’s quarters.

Arthur’s never done anything about it, though. He is more than happy to provide comfort if Morgana asks for it, but she never did. She’d speak about her dreams and how they’d haunt her for days to come, but Arthur doesn’t know how to make them go away. Gaius can’t do anything about it. Uther barely knows anything about it.

So he did his best to make sure Morgana always has the fluffiest pillows, the softest nightclothes, and a hand to hold even if it’s not his.

Arthur didn’t stop at Morgana. He noticed things about Uther’s advisors and knights. He knows Lady Campbell’s more prone to be out in the forest with her maidservant rather than spending time with her husband. He knows Lord Ruthford’s having an affair with at least half of the wedded Ladies and probably a few Knights too.

He knows that Sir Louver’s been acting skittish lately and that his squire has been sending hesitant glances towards Arthur. He knows that Sir Louver’s most likely to be sending him a basket of fruits laced with something deadly. He knows that Sir Louver’s late wife had been practicing magic, and was rightfully punished for it.

Arthur has been observing and noticing things all his life, and he can read almost everybody. Then this peasant boy from the middle of nowhere came and swept Arthur off his feet (physically, of course). Arthur knows how to read people, and he has been reading people accurately for so long. So how dare this peasant boy come in and make him doubt everything? How dare he refuse to fall under the different categories he’s made for people? How dare he-

And so that’s how it began. Arthur knew how to notice things, and he does with Merlin, he just doesn’t _understand_ it. He notices every single smile he has, every single teasing remark, every single challenge. He’s noticed that some days Merlin looks just about done with Arthur, and is probably planing an elaborate assassination.

He noticed how other days Merlin looks sad, and more confusingly, _lonely_. Arthur just can’t understand. Everyone loves Merlin (except Arthur, of course). Everyone’s always trying to spend time with Merlin. Heck, even Morgana wants to spend time with Merlin. So what’s making Merlin sad? Merlin just isn’t supposed to be _sad_. It doesn’t sit right with Arthur.

Then Merlin goes ahead and drinks poison for Arthur? Arthur was one hundred percent sure that Merlin would like to strangle him most of the time. So why pray to tell, would he want to sacrifice his life for him? So obviously Arthur couldn’t let the idiot die because he’s going to solve the enigma wrapped around a puzzle that walks around and calls himself “Merlin.” He simply just isn’t allowed to die before that.

The first time he noticed that Merlin was the weird type of lonely-sad was with Morgana. It was after Morgana got cured of the illness planted in by Edwin Muirden. He looked happy when Morgana recovered and was generally happy around Morgana. But then, when he thought that no one was watching, his shoulders would droop and he’d get this far-away look in his eyes. Arthur’s seen that look before but just doesn’t know where.

He gets a new Knight two weeks later. Sir Connor kills his first man and _oh_ , that’s the look Merlin was wearing. Now, obviously, Arthur’s a bit wrong-footed. Merlin, “I-will-not-hurt-a-fly,” whatever his last name is, killing… someone…? A joke. Obviously, a joke. Merlin’s a great big puzzle and is weird. Merlin can’t kill someone, right?

Arthur did not have enough time to think of it, because soon after he (literally) got enchanted by Sophia.

Merlin even had his sad expression then! Arthur just can’t figure him out. Was he guilty that he had to knock Arthur out? Not a chance. That idiot may not be capable of killing a fly but he’d never pass up an opportunity to fight Arthur. Now that’s one thing for sure. So what’s making him so… sad?

Things were a bit hectic after that. Merlin’s friend died, Arthur killed a unicorn against Merlin’s better judgment, and Gwen’s father died. It was all just… too much.

The next time Arthur couldn’t fathom Merlin out was after the Questing Beast. Arthur heard that his mother came down with a horrible illness, but Merlin continued to look detached even after she recovered. Arthur. Just. Can’t. Understand. Merlin.

So many incidents, so many unexplained emotions. Merlin’s somehow managed to burrow deep into Arthur’s mind that he’s found himself rather _liking_ Merlin. A bit too much for his own good. Maybe more than too much.

Arthur noticed how Merlin’s eyes are the deepest shade of blue he’d ever seen. Arthur noticed that it’s impossible not to look at or for Merlin in a room. And more importantly, how much his presence would be missed. The time his father married a troll is the perfect example. At least it was better to send him away rather than to arrest him.

Merlin. It almost scared him how much he thought of Merlin. The idiot’s even taken to disappearing for hours and days together and coming up with excuses. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. Arthur thought of Merlin as a friend, and Merlin’s coming up with excuses to not be around him.

It was fine. Arthur wasn’t supposed to care that much about what Merlin thinks anyway. He has other things to think about; the Kingdom, his duties as Prince, and… Guinevere. Arthur’s still not completely sure how that happened but it did and he’s glad for it.

Guinevere’s not the same shy maidservant of Morgana’s anymore. She’s bolder. Arthur never really liked the shy-types anyway. They were too easy to read. Merlin seemed more than okay about their relationship, which was a bit unsettling. Arthur’s sure Merlin and Guinevere had something going on before.

Merlin’s chronic sadness returned ten-fold the day Morgana got kidnapped by Morgause. It was then that Arthur truly realized that Merlin might have loved Morgana more than he thought. Arthur couldn’t name how he felt. See? Before Merlin came along he was sure of a lot of things.

Arthur remembers a lot, but most of them are fuzzy. He remembers how he managed to make Merlin smile after he dumped water on him, how he somehow doesn’t trust Mordred. He recalled how the death of the Dragonlord affected Merlin more than it’s supposed to.

Arthur still didn’t understand why. Arthur just doesn’t understand Merlin.

But then there are times, where he feels a bit better about himself. Because he can tell when Merlin’s not okay even when Merlin looks okay. Merlin is good at hiding things. On days when Merlin’s smile looks a bit too wide to be genuine, or on days when their banter is a bit too close to bitterness rather than fun. And on days when Merlin lies straight through his teeth.

Arthur doesn’t want to say it hurts whenever Merlin lies, but that’s exactly what it is. Arthur just wants Merlin to trust him with whatever’s bugging him. He can’t take it anymore, it just _hurts_. A few years back he’d say he didn’t care about what his _manservant_ thinks and he’d mean it. Now, though, Merlin is a friend, even though it’s against his better judgment.

Worst of all, though, is that Arthur suspects Guinevere’s suspecting _something_. Something tells him that Guinevere thinks there’s more to how Arthur feels about Merlin. Which is totally untrue. Completely. So Arthur will ignore that little bit.

Which brings them to the present day. Merlin hasn’t smiled for three days. _Three whole days_. Arthur stood by and watched Merlin wallow in his- he doesn’t want to call it depression, but that’s what it is- for all these years. He’s never pressed Merlin for answers, never commanded him to tell Arthur what’s wrong, never pressured Merlin in any way. But, for the love of God, Merlin hasn’t smiled in any way. _For three whole days_.

Not once on his stupid jokes. Not once at the Knight’s jabs. Not once at Arthur. He hasn’t even insulted Arthur about his weight for a long time. Not that Arthur wants to be insulted. He just wants to see Merlin happy.

It didn’t start from there. Now, Arthur’s not stupid, no matter what Merlin says. He knows that Merlin doesn’t like Mordred. He, once again, can’t understand why. Merlin loves everyone. Merlin always looks at the best in people. So Arthur never understood why Merlin wanted him to _kill_ Mordred. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Merlin’s been like that ever since Arthur Knighted Mordred. Arthur expected Merlin and Sir Mordred to get along after a few days, but it kept getting worse. Merlin just doesn’t like Mordred.

Merlin’s been even more skittish these days. He’s always at Arthur’s side, never complains about going on hunts, doesn’t give any side comments during feasts and council meetings.

It’s been bothering Arthur more than he would like to accept. He’s been taking out his frustrations on the Knights, which made them notice too. But they don’t see what’s wrong. They don’t understand how much it actually means to Arthur. Hell, even _he_ didn’t know either before this.

He just doesn’t see it. Mordred is young, talented, and ambitious. He’s a quick learner and strives hard to prove himself. He has everything a Knight should, in terms of potential. Arthur tried so hard to see what’s wrong.

To top it off, Merlin’s been disappearing and reappearing at inconsistent intervals. He’s been extra fussy about Arthur’s safety and well-being. He’s always like that right before there’s an attempt at Arthur’s life. Over the years, Arthur’s noticed that there's a pattern Merlin goes follows on days leading up to an attempt at his life. It’s like Merlin knows. Like he almost always _knows_.

Merlin then came up to Arthur, dragging him out of his bed in the middle of the night and into the forest. Arthur’s a bit more than confused, so to say. Merlin just kept shushing him.

“Do you trust me?” Merlin asked. Does Arthur trust Merlin? More than anyone. More than himself. If there’s one person he can lean on, it’s Merlin. Arthur just wished that Merlin trusted him the same amount. He wished that Merlin would lean on him too, when he needs it. But that’s not what they’re here for.

“Most of the time,” is what Arthur found himself saying, and cursed himself for such a stupid answer. But for Merlin, it looked like it was enough. He finally _smiled_. Oh God, Merlin smiled. How he’s missed that smile. It wasn’t Arthur’s favorite- the one that spread over his whole face and made his eyes crinkle- but it was something. Now, to make Merlin laugh…

“Arthur, before we do this, I need you to listen, completely, before you take any actions. Promise me.” Merlin’s smile dropped, and Arthur already missed it. It took a while to process whatever Merlin said, and even longer to understand it. Arthur eventually nodded.

Merlin led him deeper into the forest until they were standing behind a tree. There was a hooded figure standing among the trees, and Arthur knew exactly what Merlin’s trying to show him. They have another traitor.

Why didn’t Merlin just tell him? Surely he didn’t think that Arthur would brush him aside. It could have saved them a lot of time and precious sleep. Arthur was about to ask Merlin that when another figure emerged.

A voice he knew, belonging to a person he trusted, then spoke. “I brought the list. It wasn’t easy, but I did.” She handed a scroll to Morgana. Arthur immediately put a hand on his sword, unsheathing it.

“Not now, Arthur. Morgana’s too powerful. It isn’t the Gwen you love,” Merlin whispered, making Arthur freeze.

“How could she do this?” Arthur didn’t get it. Why would Guinevere do this? Why is she doing this?

“It’s not Gwen!” Merlin whispered, dragging Arthur away from their spot. “She’s being controlled by Morgana for a while now. Started after the Dark Tower.”

They now were out of hearing range, which was a good thing because Arthur just about yelled. “That long?” Merlin knew for that long, but didn’t tell Arthur. How could Arthur not notice? He’s never had any problems reading people before, so how did he miss this?

“You knew, didn’t you?” Arthur accused. Merlin looked away before nodding. Arthur almost screamed. To be fair, he’s gotten poisoned and almost assassinated during the course of the last two months. Oh- _oh_. Arthur should have known. Gwen would never, ever imprison Merlin. Never. How did he let this pass?

Arthur leaned back against the tree so that he doesn’t collapse under the weight of recent revelations.

“You didn’t think of telling me?” Arthur asked. Arthur couldn’t make out Merlin’s exact expression, but if the droop in his shoulders and tense demeanor was anything to go by, he looked guilty.

Merlin straightened up almost immediately. “She’s your wife Arthur, and my best friend. Of course I’ll just come up to you and say ‘Hello, good morning, your wife’s being controlled by Morgana and has already tried to kill you three times.’”

Three times? Merlin, as if reading Arthur’s thoughts, nodded. “Now, that’s not the point.” Merlin’s right. That wasn’t the point. Arthur doesn’t know how he’s not noticed it for so long. “Gaius has a way of bringing her back…”

It was hard, of course. But they did it in the end, and Guinevere was back. Merlin, though. He looked annoyed and slightly angry and spent the whole day glaring at Mordred and ignoring Arthur. Mordred, he may have understood. But Arthur? What did he do now?

Merlin continued to ignore Arthur for two more days. Arthur just couldn’t take it. He’s thought of everything but nothing explained why Merlin’s being more distant than usual. Arthur couldn’t help but think about what Guinevere said.

“He’s seeing a girl.”

Granted, that was when Guinevere was under Morgana’s influence and it could have very well been a lie. But it does explain Merlin’s disappearances. It doesn’t explain the limp he had that day. But Merlin’s been going off without warning for so long now… does that mean he’s been seeing her for so long? And never told Arthur?

Arthur then realized that Merlin probably had a limp for a reason… and he didn’t like the conclusion he came to.

It frustrated Arthur to no end that even after ten years Merlin’s managed to stay the same. He’s still an enigma wrapped around in a puzzle. His actions go against his words. His mouth spouts the most ridiculous of lies and the most confusing wisdom. His words speak of treason while his actions always tell Arthur that no matter what, no matter when, he’d always follow Arthur, wherever and whenever. He makes Arthur feel challenged and at home, forever keeping him on his toes.

And he’s missed that, the past two days. Merlin’s been acting… normal. Which means he’s ignoring Arthur.

“Has Merlin been ignoring you?” Arthur finally cracked and asked Guinevere one night. Guinevere looked up from her dinner plate, raising an eyebrow. “He’s been ignoring me and I just don’t know why.”

“Have you, perhaps considered, that this has something to do with the fact that you forgot about him?” To Arthur, it sounded like “you’ve forgotten the sky’s blue and the grass is green.” It sounded absurd and untrue, so Arthur just had to laugh.

He sobered up when he realized that Guinevere wasn’t joking. “When was that, exactly?”

Guinevere’s hand curled around her goblet, clutching it. Arthur got the message that this conversation wasn’t as lighthearted as he thought it to be. “After you brought me back from the Dolma.”

That didn't count. Arthur hardly forgot about Merlin. He only wished to bring Guinevere away from there. He was going to ask for Merlin right after she sat on one of the horses. The Dolma just got to it before Arthur could ask.

“I didn’t realize…” Arthur trailed off. Perhaps Guinevere was right. It almost seemed like he was leaving Merlin behind…

“Of course you didn’t,” Guinevere scoffed. Arthur stopped eating, looking up to see Guinevere paying attention to her plate.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like you didn’t realize how I wasn’t myself for more than two months?” Arthur felt guilt settling low in his stomach. He wasn’t anticipating this conversation.

“Guinevere-”

“Look, Arthur, it’s fine. Forget I even said anything.” But Arthur couldn’t.

“It’s been bothering you,” Arthur stated. Guinevere nodded.

“Not really as much as I’d like it to though.” Arthur tilted his head in confusion. “One would think that it should probably be eating me up or that I should be worried about what that means but I don’t.

“Does that make sense? It doesn’t, I know. What I mean is, is that- it doesn’t bother me enough. Like, one would think that being oblivious to your wife’s state is a matter of concern… but it doesn’t affect me.” Guinevere chewed on her lower lip, considering her next words.

“It feels like… Like how I didn’t mind that none of the Knights realized or how Merlin didn’t realize until the evidence was right in his face. I don’t know, Arthur. Everything’s been so confusing.”

Arthur understood that. Everything has been confusing. He couldn’t figure it out, and it seems like neither could Guinevere.

“I think you should talk to Merlin. He’s always known things before anyone else.” Arthur burrowed his eyebrows at that. Guinevere had a point, but how could Merlin help in this? “Or at least apologize.” That he should.

After dinner he headed straight to Gaius’s chambers. Merlin wasn’t there. Gaius gave him the classic excuse of the tavern. Arthur just about had it with not knowing.

Alright, that was the last straw. Arthur would get the truth out of Merlin, no matter what. Today. Or he’ll be persistent enough until Merlin reveals whatever’s been keeping him away from the castle. He had an idea on what it was, but he didn’t like it one bit.

If his theory is true, Arthur doesn’t really know what he’d do. Scream? Yes. Shout? Yes. Punch the guy? Definitely. Why? No clue. Ban Merlin from ever leaving the Castle? Obviously. Why? Because it’s _Merlin_.

So Arthur camped out in Merlin’s chamber, ignoring Gaius’s protests. He’s King and he can do whatever he wants. Even if it means waiting for Merlin to come back and extracting the truth out of him. While he’s at it, he’ll extract the reasons behind Merlin’s weird lonely-sad looks. He’s also going to commission Merlin a new bed because _how can he even sleep on this lump of wood?_

Maybe even a new cupboard because the state of this room is the same. It hasn't really changed in the past ten years from when he'd been ordered to sweep the castle for a sorcerer. If anything, it looked worse. There were clothes everywhere, books on the floor and on the bed, and a dead plant in the corner.

Arthur should just make Merlin move.

“Sire, I’ll send for you once Merlin’s back or I’ll send him to you or something. There’s no point in waiting in his chambers.” Gaius still wouldn’t give up on making Arthur go away.

“It’s fine Gaius, I’m free anyway. Plus I’ve never seen Merlin drunk. I’m sure it’ll be quite a sight.” Arthur flashed one of his sarcastic grins, effectively telling Gaius this topic was not up for discussion. Gaius paled and left the room, hesitating by the door as if contemplating whether to leave it open. He glanced back and muttered something before closing the door to Merlin’s chambers.

Perhaps it was a bit extreme, imposing like this, but it was a necessary evil. Arthur will figure out Merlin today. He’s made up his mind.

The moon was high up in the sky and Arthur was half asleep when he heard the door bang open. Ah, Merlin finally makes an appearance. He expected to hear crashing sounds and laughter from “drunk” Merlin, but everything was eerily silent.

Arthur frowned and decided to inspect it. He slowly opened the door, bracing himself for whatever he’d see on the other side.

The first thing he noticed were hushed whispers of cursing. And then Gaius’s back as he was covering his field of vision. He could see the tuft of soft black hair, but other than that, Merlin was completely dwarfed over by Gaius.

Arthur sighed and pushed the door open, making his presence clear. Gaius quickly turned around, still standing in front of Merlin. But Arthur caught a glimpse of something dark over Merlin’s face and no, there was no way he’d let this go.

“Sire-”

“Arthur, what the hell are you doing here?” Merlin interrupted Gaius, shocking the pair of them.

“I’ll be wherever I want, whenever I want, and it still wouldn’t be any of your business. Gaius, step aside,” Arthur commanded. If his theory had any validity, and if Merlin’s appearance had anything to do with it, Arthur would hunt him down and run him through, publicly.

Gaius still hadn’t moved. “Gaius, please.”

Arthur was not prepared for what he saw. A cut lip, a bruised eye, and Merlin was clearly favoring his right side. Merlin looked away from where he was seated, not meeting Arthur’s eyes. It only made him see red.

What he did next felt like a dream sequence or a nightmare. He felt like an observer in his own body, where all he could see was his Merlin hurt because of another man. He saw himself move forward and was aware that he was demanding the name of the person who did this to him. Merlin kept shaking his head.

Merlin kept saying something but all he could hear was his heart pounding and his blood running in his ears. Merlin’s expression froze at… fear? Merlin’s afraid. Of him. Merlin’s afraid of him.

It felt like the fog was lifted from his brain and things were a lot clearer all of a sudden. Breathing was difficult and it resulted in him panting as if he’s been through training. Arthur closed his eyes and tried to get down from his high. He needed to sit.

He all but collapsed next to Merlin on the patient’s bed, collecting his thoughts. Someone’s been hurting Merlin, and there’s a great possibility that it’s the guy Merlin’s been seeing. His anger returned at that, because how dare anyone hurt Merlin?

He felt a hand slip through his, which he realized belonged to Merlin. Arthur opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. Gaius was clutching his work table so hard his knuckles had gone white. Merlin’s hands were cold and ice. Arthur gripped it harder, hating how cold it felt.

“Who did this to you?” Arthur repeated again.

“No one. You know how clumsy I am,” Merlin sounded fine. But it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine that he was covering up for someone who didn’t deserve anything from Merlin.

“Stop lying. You don’t have to.”

Arthur turned to look at Merlin, who looked away quickly. Merlin squeezed his eyes and nodded. Merlin stood up, all but wobbly, his hand still intertwined with Arthur’s. Arthur opened his mouth to scold Merlin for standing up when he clearly couldn’t, but Merlin beat him to it.

“We’re not doing this here.” Arthur knew that it meant, _”We’re not doing this infront of Gaius”_. So Gaius didn’t know either. Arthur nodded and stood up, following Merlin out of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin looked back at Gaius and nodded, looking resigned. Something passed between them, making Gaius look sickly pale. Nevertheless, Gaius nodded back.

Merlin tried to hide his limp but Arthur could see right through it. Arthur released his grip on Merlin’s hand, immediately missing it, but then guided him to loop his arm around his shoulder, telling him to lean on Arthur, _for once_.

Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur, the two closer than they’ve ever been. The blue of his eyes were more intense from this close, accented by the darkness surrounding it. Up this close, Arthur could see little specks of gold littering his iris. Some part of Arthur, the one buried deep down under layers and layers of denial, knew that the blue of Merlin’s eyes will forever be his favorite color. Something then flashed in Merlin’s eyes, something that looked like hesitation.

Merlin nodded and turned away, leading them to Arthur’s chambers. He didn’t know why they were here, only knew that he’d follow Merlin to wherever he feels safe. A small part of Arthur felt smug that Merlin chose _his_ chambers.

Once they were in and seated opposite to each other, knees touching, Arthur waited patiently for Merlin to begin. Guinevere would be in her chambers, and the only other person allowed in his was Merlin, so they won’t be interrupted. But it would be nice if Merlin started sometime soon.

Arthur avoided looking directly into any of Merlin’s injuries, which was hard since there’s no way anyone can avoid looking at Merlin’s face. The part of Arthur that had been buried deep under the layers of denial told him this conversation was different; that it would change things he knew to be true. Arthur was half ready and half anticipating it.

Merlin cleared his throat, swallowing. Arthur realized that Merlin was missing his neck kerchief, which served to make things all the more distracting. But that wasn’t the point of this conversation. Today he’s going to find the name of Merlin’s abuser and uncover all the other secrets that had built upon them after all these years. Arthur too has a secret, one that he’s been reluctant to acknowledge before this. But he wouldn't mind if it saw the light of day, at least for today.

“Well, to answer your question, no one in particular has done this.” Arthur had to refrain from rolling his eyes, instead settled on clenching his fists. “No, listen-”

“I’m listening,” Arthur said, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

Merlin nodded, before continuing, “It was bandits. I was in the forest, collecting herbs for Gaius-”

Arthur didn’t, couldn’t, listen to the rest of it. Why couldn’t Merlin trust him like he does Merlin? Why couldn’t Merlin let him help?

“I know for a fact, _Mer_ lin, that that’s just a load of crap.”

Merlin promptly shut his mouth.

“Merlin, I promise nothing’s going to happen to you.” That seemed like the wrong thing to say because Merlin turned his head and clenched his jaw.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Pendragon.” Arthur flinched like he was struck, because Merlin never, ever, called him _Pendragon_. It’s clotpole, dollophead, cabbage head, turnip head, a sarcastic ‘sire’, or ‘my lord’, or ‘my liege’, or his personal favorite, ‘Arthur’. Never, ever, Pendragon.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Merlin replied, a bit too quick. Merlin shook his head and dropped his gaze to his hands, which were resting on his lap.

“It’s not, ‘nothing,’ Merlin-”

“It is, though! I’m telling you- I’m fine.” Arthur still couldn’t understand Merlin. Arthur really wondered if Merlin sometimes spoke another language, because the level at which Arthur understood him was close to zero.

“Why? Why are you covering it up? For so goddamn long? What’s the reason? He’s hurting-”

“There’s no one!” This was soon dissolving into a shouting match. “There’s no one, I’m trying to tell you. It’s just me and- and- a few bandits, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Let me fucking help, Merlin. **You're hurt- Please, just let me help you** ,” Arthur didn’t quite mean to yell that, yet again, he didn’t mean to start begging either. Merlin sniffed, but said nothing otherwise.

“Look, I know that you’ve probably been seeing him for a long time, and I really don’t know why you’re doing this, but I swear-”

“I have magic.”

Arthur froze mid-sentence. Merlin’s eyes were glossed over and he all but whispered it, but Arthur heard it. It was absurd. Merlin, and magic?

“Don’t be ridiculous Merlin, w-why would you say that?” Merlin choked out a sob, his face twisting painfully, and reached out to grab a hold of Arthur’s hand.

Merlin held back a few sobs, otherwise, didn’t say a thing for a while.

"I’m sorry, Arthur. I have magic, and I use it for you Arthur, only for you." Merlin looked at Arthur with such sincerity that he wanted to believe it, he wanted to believe it so bad, but he didn’t know anymore. Ten years later and he still couldn’t understand Merlin.

“You don’t have magic Merlin, I would know.” Of course he would. He’s spent ten years loving this man- and there’s no way he has magic. Arthur would know.

He thought, to a level, he at least _knew_ Merlin. He never understood him, that’s for sure. He knew that Merlin would never ever betray him and that he’d forever stay loyal. But now he knows that none of it was true. None of it.

“No look,” Merlin released his grip on Arthur’s hand, cupping his hands together. He whispered something that sounded like gibberish, and Arthur prayed to every God he ever knew that it was gibberish. He knew none of them were listening when Merlin’s eyes glowed gold.

It was funny, how even after all this, Arthur’s traitorous mind compared Merlin’s eyes to the brilliant gold of sunsets and everything beautiful.

Merlin uncupped his hands, and a ball of soft blue light emerged out of it. He knew that ball of light. It felt like it’s been ages since then.

Arthur shook his head once, then twice, telling himself that he wouldn’t cry.

“Why?” Arthur had promised himself that he’d uncover Merlin today, and he intended on keeping that promise. It felt absolutely stupid that he still wanted to know why. If this was anyone else, they’d either be run through or put in a cell and banished before daylight. Arthur hasn’t burnt sorcerers for no reason; their punishment had always been banishment. But with Merlin, Arthur’s not sure if he could bring himself to do either.

“To protect you of course.” Merlin said it as if it was any other fact- like how the sun sets in the west and how the North Star is forever fixed in its position. “It’s my destiny- _you’re my destiny_.”

It’s stupid how that sounded like a love declaration by itself. Arthur once again hated his traitorous mind.

Merlin took his silence as a sign to continue, and said, “I was born with magic, and for so long, I thought of myself as a monster. And then I finally found a purpose for my magic- it’s to make sure you’re alright Arthur.

“You’re going to be the greatest King Camelot, no _Albion’s_ ever had. You’re going to unite all these lands, make them yours, and make Albion great.”

Arthur scoffed at that and stood up, walking over to the window. He’s a great King, oh yes completely. He’s been betrayed by his own sister and Uncle, and now his best friend. He can’t even stop himself from laying his life in the hands of people that kept betraying him, over and over again.

“You’ve got to believe me Arthur. I wouldn’t have stated otherwise. I know that you’re going to be the greatest King. If I didn’t believe it, I wouldn’t care just as much about saving your royal arse.”

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him, and Arthur almost scolded Merlin for getting up. He did however, turn back. Merlin leaned on his left leg, his right clearly hurt, and was breathing hard. Arthur wanted to tell him to sit down and shut up while he goes and gets Gaius. He didn’t.

“Magic is evil, Merlin.” Merlin flinched at that, but Arthur knew that to be true. It took his mother, his father, his sister, and now Merlin.

“You’re wrong.” Merlin looked like he believed it. “Magic is just a tool. Like a weapon. The weapon that kills a man isn’t evil, it’s the one wielding it.”

Arthur shook his head, because that sounded absurd. “Magic corrupts the soul with the promise of power,” Arthur tried to make Merlin see reason.

“No, it’s the minds of men that corrupts one’s soul. You’re King, Arthur. You could order all the city’s gold to be presented at your feet. You have the power to do so, but do you?” It was times like these when Merlin seemed to possess wisdom beyond his years, something that always amazed Arthur. But that was the last thing he wanted, because Merlin's saying it with such conviction, as if he believes.

“I can command lightning and storms, earthquakes and fire, the minds of men, women, and children alike, but I don’t. Because I don’t want to. I only do it while it’s absolutely necessary, when you’re in danger.”

Merlin? Doing all that? When Arthur's in danger? Why, why him? Why do anything at all?

“You don’t have to!” Arthur did mean to raise his voice, but all that came out was an outraged whisper. “I have Knights for that. I don’t want to lose you like I did Morgana!”

“You won’t! What happened to Morgana won’t happen to me, I swear to you Arthur. I live to serve you and that’s something no force on this Earth can change,” Merlin said, breathing hard, his eyes more determined than ever. Something about his voice and demeanor reeked of sincerity, demanding to be understood.

He was still stuck at the fact that Merlin's been protecting him. It sounded so wrong, so stupid. But he knew that like how he's trying to make Merlin see reason, Merlin's doing the same to him. He's trying to tell Arthur a part of him, a part which he's begging Arthur to understand.

And Arthur did. Heaven forbid, he did. It was Merlin, loyal, brave, and lovely. He’s spent so long trying to understand and now once he did, he didn’t want to. Because it was impossible. There’s no way magic can be pure, but there’s Merlin, living breathing proof of otherwise.

Arthur wanted to think that Merlin was an exception, just like he is to every other rule. But deep down he knew there was a reason he doesn’t mindlessly execute sorcerers. If anything, Merlin’s just the warrior he is, only wielding a different weapon.

Everything was so confusing and Arthur had a strong urge to cry. But Kings do not show weakness, especially in front of potential traitors.

Merlin, apparently, had no such opinions because there were tears already streaking down his face.

“I don’t know what to say,” Arthur stated honestly. Merlin nodded, absentmindedly chewing on his lower-lip. Arthur was about to tell Merlin to quit that because he has a cut lip before Merlin winced in pain.

Which reminded him why they were here in the first place. “What happened today?”

“Oh this? I’m really serious, it’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” Merlin shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure your injuries would like to protest that.” A fleeting thought gave him the feeling that Merlin’s suffered worse, and Arthur didn’t want _that_ theory to be true. “Don’t tell me you’ve had worse.”

“Nope. Nothing worse than this,” Merlin lied, grinning nervously. Arthur had a sudden urge to twat him, but refrained.

“Don’t. No more lies, please. Just tell me what happened.”

Merlin looked away, guilty, before sighing. “Sorcerer gone rogue, wants to eliminate the Pendragon line, flings me around, I defeat them.” Merlin says it in a way that this was a normal occurrence, and for all Arthur knew, that could be true.

“How do I know nothing about this?”

“Because you’re an oblivious prat,” Merlin immediately responded.

“Hey-”

“What? You told me no more lies,” Merlin grinned, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There was hesitation there, as if Merlin was testing the waters to make sure he could still tease Arthur. Arthur shook his head, because some things just never change.

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” Arthur blurted out, and woah, where did that come from? He immediately felt stupid afterwards. Merlin shook his head.

“Nope, none. Too busy running after your Royal Highness, you see,” Merlin’s grin didn’t flatter, if anything, it got wider. It was one of Arthur’s favorite smiles- the one that consumes his whole face and makes his eyes crinkle. It’s been so goddamn long since he’s seen it.

“Good. Can’t have you distracted. Now, sit down before you fall over.”

Merlin did as he’s told for once, which was highly alarming. He must be hurt more than he lets on, Arthur realized. Arthur always kept a few bandages and salves in his room for emergencies, as to not bother Gaius too much.

Arthur sighed with relief when he realized that he had more than enough salve and bandages. He grabbed them and returned to his original seat, staring expectantly at a very confused Merlin.

“Where does it hurt?”

“No I’m fine I’ll get Gaius to-”

“Where does it hurt, Merlin?” Arthur repeated, feeling his patience run thin.

Merlin slumped and toed off his right shoe, revealing a very swollen ankle. Arthur winced in sympathy. He began rubbing a bit of salve and wrapping the bandage, tying it to make sure it doesn’t fall off.

“Alright, thanks.” Merlin said, once it was over. Arthur narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“I know for a fact that you have more injuries than just that. Spill.” Merlin looked positively appalled. He slowly nodded and gestured to his right abdomen, and _oh_. Skin.

Arthur nodded, albeit a bit slowly. Merlin raised his shirt up, revealing a very nasty looking bruise. Arthur bit his lip in order to not blurt out something stupid, only shook his head and grabbed a handful of salve. Merlin winced a bit when Arthur touched the bruise.

“One of these days, Merlin, you’re going to tell me everything you’ve done.” And then it hit Arthur, that Merlin actually has _magic_. That he’s been using it to… protect him? Arthur? Arthur was determined to get his answers, but this just left him with more questions.

“Of course,” Merlin nodded, biting his lip again.

How many times has Merlin been hurt on his behalf? How many times could he have avoided getting hurt, if it weren’t for Arthur being there? Was every time he spent in the tavern, actually the little magical adventures Merlin goes on? Can magic be anything other than _evil_?

Arthur pulled his hand away and grabbed Merlin’s chin in the other, angling his head so that he had better access to Merlin’s bruised eye. Up this close, Arthur saw the remnants of Merlin’s magic in his eyes, in the form of intense golden specks blending into the blue of his iris.

Hell, they were too close. Arthur’s hands shook on their own accord while applying the salve on his bruised eye. What’s worse is that Merlin’s were intent on being fixed on his. Not that Arthur was any better.

Merlin suddenly winced, softly, and Arthur realized that he’d pressed a bit too hard. It however, did nothing to improve the tension in the room.

“Sorry,” Arthur's voice came out like a hoarse whisper. Merlin’s eyes went darker and a soft blush spread through his cheek, and Arthur’s sure he doesn’t look any different.

“‘S alright,” Merlin whispered, his every breath fanning over Arthur’s lips. The only thing Arthur could hear was the roaring of his blood in his ears and Merlin’s breathing. Hell, they’re too close. They’ve had moments like this before… but not this time. It always ended with the other looking away or being interrupted by something.

Too close. Too long. All Arthur had to do was lean forward and…

There. He did it. Took him ten years, but he did it. Merlin gasped when Arthur’s lip touched his and yes, Arthur could understand. Arthur drew back a bit, but Merlin chased his lips, changing the angle a bit. And oh, _oh_. Arthur’s glad they were sitting down because he went all lightheaded after that.

The feeling wasn’t that very different from getting drunk; it felt freeing and so, so _good_ , that everything else that should have mattered flew out of the window. He slipped the hand gripping Merlin’s chin into his soft locks, bringing him closer. Merlin groaned into his lips, his hand coming up to Arthur’s jaw.

“Arthur,” Merlin gasped, pulling away. “Arthur, wait, wait-”

Arthur did, catching his breath and leaning his forehead against Merlin’s, still too afraid to open his eyes. Oh God, he’d done it. But he’d made Merlin promise that there’d be no more lies in between them. It’s only expected that he’d do the same.

“Arthur, we can’t,” Merlin whispered, his breath still teasing Arthur’s lips. Arthur knew that, understood that, but didn’t want to follow that.

It took them so goddamn long, building their relationship on secrets and half-truths, but now everything was out in the open. Everything. There’s nothing stopping them other than social obligation and their other relationships.

“I know. But I said no more lies. It applies to me too.” Arthur’s not sure as to how he’d face Guinevere after this, or his Kingdom, or his Knights, nor his citizens. His counselors would shame him for being bent, the people of Camelot would treat Merlin like Arthur’s other lover, and his Knights would never again follow him into battle.

A tear slipped past his clenched eyes, and a hand came to wipe it away. Arthur slowly opened his eyes, drinking in the sight of Merlin. His cheeks were still flushed, hair completely tousled, and lips red and wet from kissing. He looked absolutely beautiful.

“Arthur…” Arthur all could think about in that second was that he really likes the sound of his name from Merlin’s lips. He wasn’t sure if it was a great big trick the universe played on him or if it’s just bad timing, but pressing his lips against Merlin’s just felt so right. Merlin must have thought the same thing because he didn’t hesitate to kiss back.

“You’re right we can’t” Arthur whispered against his lips once they came up for air. Merlin nodded, but didn’t say anything. “But I’m not sure I can give this up now.” And that was the truth. He’s had a taste of paradise and it’s impossible to let go now. It’s like how he’s never been able to part with Excalibur ever since it fell into his hands or how he’s always treasured his mother’s sigil and didn’t once regret giving it to Merlin.

“Yeah,” Merlin exhaled, closing his eyes and leaning in for a kiss that Arthur had no problem replicating. “Yeah,” he repeated once again, intertwining his other hand in Arthur’s.

“We’ll figure it out, like we always do.” Arthur couldn’t help but agree to that, sealing the promise with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm really sorry for making you go through this. Constructive Criticism very much welcomed.


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